The lost weeks of Lisbon

Three weeks have somehow passed since I arrived in Lisbon; time which I can only assume simply evaporated in the indescribable light that illuminates this city.

I’ve not forgotten. There was work, room-hunting, drinking moonshine cherry schnapps from the old lady selling it out of her window, wandering the streets, riding its ferries and buses, adventures with new friends, gasping in the cold Atlantic waters and an octupus that set off a charming little allergic reaction.

But at this point, trying to describe everything that happened would like trying to walk past a Portuguese bakery.

Impossible.

I’ve instead chosen 17 photos, each a little story of its own.

And with only two weeks left in Portugal, I’m out the door to find some more. Adeus for now!

Disembarking from the Trenhotel sleeper train at Lisbon Oriente Station.

An unseasonal outlook over the medieval maze of Alfama.

Moorish geometric tiling, different on almost every building.

King Jose I watches over Praca do Comercio; Lisbon’s grand, gorgeous waterfront square.

Everything you could want, as long as that is canned eel. Fabrica das Enguias, Baixa district.

Sun-kissed evenings in Cacilhas’ abandoned warehouse district, on the far side of the Tagus River

The Monument to the Discoveries — marking the departure point of Portugal’s renowned seafarers.

Rising above Alfama is the Panteao Nacional, the final resting place of many prominent Portuguese.

Less famous than the pasteis de nata, but no less tasty. Queijadas de Sintra — tiny, eggy, cinnamon cheesecake pastries

Related Articles

Berlin-based Kiwi writer in innovation communication. Inspired by social enterprise, science and tech for good, responsible travel and climate action. Sharing the inspiration through journalism and brand storytelling.